


Kíli's Lover

by Iavalir



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Abuse, Dark, Durin Family Feels, Horror, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 05:37:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iavalir/pseuds/Iavalir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since his stay at the inn on the way to Bag End, Kíli has been in a pleasant mood, speaking of a special someone within the company who has taken his heart. But when signs of abuse show up on his body and broken spirit, Fíli and Bofur investigate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kíli's Lover

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the warnings! This story contains graphic depiction of violence/gore, character death, and relationship abuse. 
> 
> I have not written something in a true horror genre for a while. Hope this is as good as my previous horror stories. For this story I played with an idea that dwarves never reveal who they are courting. It’s one of the ways in which they demonstrate their possessiveness of their partner: in fear of having another try to woo their lover, they keep the identity of their lover a secret, sometimes even to family, until on the day of the wedding. 
> 
> _“The giant Gundobad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin.”_ \- a line from the first Hobbit film.

Kíli was in a most strange light-hearted mood on the morning after their night’s stay in the White Downs; it was not until they had set off and were traveling on their way to Bag End that Kíli revealed the reason for his strange merriment to Fíli at last. 

“A lover?” Fíli repeated, turning his attention from the road to his grinning brother. 

“Aye, one who will join Thorin and us in the quest,” Kíli explained. His excitement over going on this quest to reclaim their homeland was nothing compared to his glee over this new relationship. It was both frightening and comical the way he gripped the reins of his pony, his mind clearly far from their path. 

“One of Thorin’s company?” The grin on Fíli’s face disappeared before confusion set in. “But no other dwarf was in the inn last night.” 

“He entered the inn as you were retiring to your room,” Kíli said. “He said he was leaving early in the morn. We stayed and spoke for a while before sleep overtook me. We fell in love right away.” 

Fíli scoffed. “Trust my brother to get himself into a relationship in the blink of an eye!” he thought. He spoke aloud, “What is his name?” 

Horror flashed in Kíli’s eyes as he turned to Fíli. “I cannot tell you that! Is it not against the custom of our kin, brother?” 

“You can, if you choose to. You know all about Fann.” 

But Kíli shook his head. “That’s different. I have found and intend to keep what is my own from any until the moment of our union comes. I cannot lose him to any who will wish to take what is mine.” 

“ _Your own?_ Are you listening to yourself speak, Kíli?” Fíli could not prevent a guffaw at his brother’s words, and this only served to annoy Kíli further. With a huff he pulled on the reins, and his pony sprinted into a gallop. 

“Ai, all right then!” Fíli said to Kíli’s back. “I promise not to get in the way of your sweet romance.” And he mumbled to himself, “An extra mug of ale to myself that this does not last the week.” 

Despite their earlier quarrel Kíli could speak of nothing else save for this dwarf. His constant thought of the dwarf caused him to misspeak their hobbit host’s name on more than one occasion, but his mistakes did not to dampen his spirits. Yet Fíli sensed Kíli was careful not to expose who it was that captured his heart, for he gave no physical indication of who this dwarf was. And all through that night Fíli watched the other dwarves, playing a guessing game with himself as to the identity. 

* * * 

Kíli’s lover cherished him profoundly. He made Kíli feel special. His spirit was alit, perhaps lighter than ever Kíli could remember. Merriment always rested in his heart, and any talk of the quest only made him gladder. He was on an adventure that could only be filled with wonder with his lover by his side, a chance of seeing new lands and achieve victories together. 

Kíli should have known better. 

* * * 

The first few weeks of their journey Kíli was as ecstatic as that dratted morning after the inn, and Fíli was torn between being amused and vaguely annoyed by his brother’s frivolous behavior. He was only too glad to see that Thorin shared in his annoyance of Kíli’s overtly lightheartedness, but Thorin cared too much for Kíli that any displeasure towards him ebbed away soon enough. But Thorin knew nothing of the reason for this silly display, chalking it to a young heart’s enthusiasm for such a rare journey. He knew nothing of Kíli’s lover. Kíli had made Fíli promise to never tell till they have seized back Erebor. Also did Kíli not hide his own discontent and regret at having told Fíli. 

“I have said too much,” he kept mumbling, casting a suspicious glance at Fíli that only filled him with deeper confusion. He had never seen his brother act so foolish, and his patience was wearing thin. 

* * * 

_“The giant Gundobad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin.”_ Balin’s words rattled and twisted Kíli’s dreams that night, filling him with cold dread. He called for his lover till warmth enveloped him. 

* * * 

Fíli gripped Kíli’s chin and moved his head sideways, taking note of a small red mark on Kíli’s right cheek. 

“I fell on the way to take a piss, that’s all!” Kíli said. He meant to keep his voice as nonchalant as he could, but Fíli picked up on the things unspoken. 

“Was it your lover?” 

“No…”

“Are you sure? I thought I heard you talking last night. You didn’t sound happy.” 

“We were only arguing…”

* * * 

Kíli’s lover wasn’t very happy with him. Kíli had let his joy of their relationship get inside his head and addle his brain, his lover told him. He was being foolish and embarrassing himself and his lover, and he deserved being chastised by his uncle for his flippant handling of issues his immature mind could never comprehend. 

Kíli’s lover also gave Kíli something to remind him of his failure. Kíli dejectedly had to agree and accept the pain his lover inflicted on him. He was out of line. He deserved this. 

* * * 

Kíli developed a tendency to leave Fíli’s side for hours at a time during their stay at Rivendell. The stress from being captured with trolls had set him farther apart from Fíli. 

Fíli knew right away why Kíli had went, but as to the identity of who the lover was, he was still no closer to finding out. Kíli was playing a careful game to keep the name of his lover secret; even in the night he would only gently call out, “My love.” Fíli supposed he should have been glad to see his brother happy again after making up with his lover over whatever fight they’ve had. But still he awoke in the nights overhearing Kíli weeping and begging his lover to stop, and the following morning he’d catch glimpses of the cuts and bruises over Kíli’s body before they were veiled by his clothes. A few times he’d run out to Kíli’s rescue, only to lose his way; and when he did eventually see Kíli again, he was crawling back to his bedroll, his eyes bloodshot and fresh blood visible on his fingers. 

These occurrences were still sporadic, and dwarves brawling was nothing unusual to the race, even among closest of friends. Yet something in this troubled Fíli. In the months following he tried to shake the truth out of his brother, but it was all for naught. Kíli fought him back, once nearly slashing him to death had their quarrel not awoken Bifur. It was pointless getting past the thick skull of his brother. 

It was no use figuring out. The company often slept spread out, and not always Fíli knew the whereabouts of every member. He was on the edge of telling Thorin everything one night during their stay in Beorn’s hall, even if it meant killing every member of the company just to protect his brother. 

But he had to keep his anger curbed. Enraged though he was he did not wish to have the blood of innocents on his conscience. He would find the identity of the lover this very night on his own, he decided. He already had his suspicions. Nori was a smooth talker and seemed interested in conversing with Kíli on occasion. His elder brother Dori was rather controlling in his behavior towards Ori. Even Ori himself suddenly seemed suspicious; he was quiet and wrote constantly in his book, and Fíli began to wonder what sort of things the dwarf was writing. Fíli knew them least of the group and naturally suspected them the most. 

But he would find out, and the following night he curled up, pretending to sleep, but kept close attention to when Kíli left his side, making his way out of the vast halls and into the night. Quietly he slid out and made for the direction he had seen Kíli disappear to. He was about to pick up the pace, eager to get his hands on the culprit, when he collided with another. 

It was Bofur. 

“You bastard,” Fíli seethed after the moment of shock left him. Sweet Bofur, who was so kind to everyone and made all feel welcomed, who was genuinely open and spoke no lie, was the one who harmed his brother? He poised his dagger high for attack. “You sick bastard!” 

Bofur put his hands up, his eyes widening with horror. “Please, I am not the one who you think me to be,” he said, voice hushed and hurried. “I am not Kíli’s lover!” 

Fíli stilled his hand, but his eyes narrowed dangerously. “How do you know about that?” 

“Kíli told me,” Bofur said. “When I went to…court him.” Fíli’s eyes widened, but he said nothing. 

“You were too late,” he said, and he was surprised to find regret in his tone. He did not wish to trust Bofur this soon, but the thought of this dwarf being with his brother was such a welcoming thought. Bofur would never raise a hand against Kíli. 

“I am worried for him,” Bofur said sincerely. “I cannot imagine any of our company doing this. We’re all family here, it feels. It is worse that everyone thinks his injuries are from our battles, or from your occasional fights. They think he’s just being reckless.” 

“Thorin should know.” 

“And how would he find the person? Kíli would be too terrified to say anything, and everyone in our company would turn against one another. The long-held dreams of your kin returning to your land would crumble if we all just up and killed each other.” He motioned to the dagger still gripped in Fíli’s hand. 

Fíli sighed; there was no argument to Bofur’s words. He lessened his grip. “Then it takes us back to where we are right now.” 

“I say it is best if we work together,” Bofur said. “We alone both know and have been searching for clues. I do not think Kíli’s lover suspects anyone knows. After all, Kíli is being reckless with his injuries; it’s what everyone thinks.” 

Fíli nodded his agreement. In all the time Bofur spoke, Fíli had been watching his eyes closely, trying to detect any dishonesty, but there was none. Bofur extended out a hand for Fíli to shake, but Fíli took it in a tight grip and pulled Bofur close to him. 

“Agreed, but let it be known that should it turn out to be you after all, you will not be given a chance to plea your case.” He showed the dagger to Bofur, who nodded as he gazed upon the sharp blade. 

* * * 

Kíli’s lover had the power to raise him to the heavens then throw him down again, pounding him against the ground till every last bit of him shattered like glass. Kíli could not explain this sudden turn, why his lover treated him so, but he guessed it to be due to his own failures. He needed to be broken and reforged, his lover told him. He was defective somehow. He wasn’t right. His uncle and brother and cousins would never love him in his current state. He needed to be fixed if he ever wished to be a proper dwarf fit to rule. 

And Kíli begged his lover to help him become better. He just wished it didn’t have to hurt so much.

* * * 

Bofur’s heart ached no matter how much he tried to cheer himself. Love for the young dwarf sprang up the moment he laid eyes on him in Bag End. He planned a small token of courtship that very evening, but the moment Kíli saw it, he blurted out that he was taken already and hurried away. 

He should have been glad, to know that someone was making Kíli happy. And for a time he was, reveling in watching Kíli’s lighthearted display while others were bogged down by the weight of their quest. 

Then the bruises began to appear. 

* * * 

Kíli’s lover always hurt him using Kíli’s own knives. He wasn’t worthy of a better blade, and Kíli had to wash his own blood off his knives afterwards. 

He missed the days when his lover made him happy. But he was defective and had to be fixed. He did not deserve his lover. He was too dirty, too undesirable. Really, he was lucky his lover even still wanted to remain with him. 

* * * 

Kíli laughed less and less as their tiresome journey dragged on. None took notice of this for everyone had grown more grumpy of their weary travel, from battle goblins to giant spiders and imprisonment by the wood elves, but Fíli and Bofur still took note of the change. 

Bofur tried to speak with Kíli as Fíli watched their exchange from afar during their first evening in Lake-town. Bofur’s lovely words brought twinkles in Kíli’s eyes, suddenly brightening him as their genuine warmth filled him, but all too soon his smile was eclipsed by a horror which glazed over him, and Kíli froze, refusing to speak to Bofur. 

It was all to honor his lover, Fíli understood, even if it meant for Kíli to refuse what his heart wanted. He wished Bofur had gotten to Kíli first. 

* * * 

Kíli’s lover despised him now. He was caught thinking of another whose smiles lit up his world, making him feel as glad as he had been the first night he met his lover. Kíli begged for forgiveness, but the punishment only grew worse. Long gashes on his arms and legs and torso were made despite his pleas for it to end. The others thought the spiders had cut him. 

Kíli tried to forget about Bofur, but this only intensified his pain. He was uncertain if being locked up in the dark in some elven hall was any better. 

* * * 

“How did this begin?” Bofur asked Fíli one evening as they sat far away from the rest of the company enjoying their dinner. No amount of watchfulness could bring them any closer to the identity of the lover. 

“We were staying at an inn for the night,” Fíli said. “We just had dinner and a few drinks. He offered to work with the innkeeper on payment for our meal and lodging. I left and thought he would come up soon behind me. I must have slept the moment my head touched the pillow because I remember nothing else. We left the inn with stories of this love he had found while I was asleep.” 

Bofur nodded but said nothing for a few moments. “Which inn was this?” 

* * * 

Kíli could not stop thinking of him. Bofur made him feel the way he wanted a lover to make him feel. But he was afraid to move, afraid to return any kind gesture to him and more afraid still of his lover which did not let go of him.

“Do I not deserve respect?” he asks repeatedly. 

His lover gave him a reason to never part. 

* * * 

Bofur could not remember which inn his brother and cousin had slept in, though they had passed through the White Downs. But he did not recall ever meeting another dwarf. 

Yet the thought troubled him. He didn’t wish to think ill of another from his own family, especially not one who had suffered before. 

“No, Bifur would never do this,” Bofur told himself repeatedly as he smoked his pipe. But the thought still left a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

* * * 

“Where are you going?” Kíli looked up, jumping as his eyes rests on Fíli who had just sat up in his bed. 

“I was going to…” Horror danced in his wide eyes. 

“You are not meeting him tonight,” Fíli said firmly. He motioned to Kíli’s bed in their shared room. “Get back in bed right now.” 

“I can’t.” 

“Do not disobey the commands of your elder brother, Kíli. Get back right now!” 

Kíli tightened his hold of the door. Loathing mingled with the cold fear in his eyes, but there was also something else. Fíli caught sight of tears teeming in his eyes before he lowered his head and rushed back under the covers, burying his face in the pillow. Fíli released the breath he was unaware of holding. 

“Kíli, this has to stop,” Fíli said. 

Kíli’s voice came out muffled. “I cannot. I love him.” 

“This is not love, brother.” 

“He will change. He is frustrated at this quest, that’s all.” 

“Do not lie to me. Break it up now or I swear it I will skin alive everyone just to ensure you are safe!” 

“You cannot kill everyone!” 

“I would for you!” Fíli took a deep breath. “Listen, I am sorry if I am harsh. It’s only because I love you.” 

“That is what my lover told me,” Kíli thought and dissolved into silent tears. 

* * * 

Kíli did not think the break up would be this easy. He was free. 

* * * 

Fíli was glad to hear of his brother’s triumph. He embraced him and held his brother as he wept. But still Kíli refused to say the name, and his lover gave no indication of his displeasure at the news. 

“But he knows my intention,” Fíli said. “I’d like to see him come for me. I will finish him off, you mark my words, brother.” 

Bofur was glad of the news as well, and the remainder of their stay in Lake-town went by without Kíli ever flinching away at Bofur’s courting. 

* * * 

Kíli should have known better. 

* * * 

“I cannot leave him, Fíli. I love him.” 

Fíli, defeat heavy in his heart, watched Kíli run past him, commanding his pony to trod faster. It was only a fortnight. What had happened? Fíli turned to Bofur, who also could find no explanation for the dwarf’s sudden change of heart. 

* * * 

Kíli’s lover never left him during the nights. It worked in Kíli’s favor that Fíli had become so bogged with work for their uncle that Kíli could slip out without his brother ever noticing, deep in his sleep. 

His body was a canvas of red as his lover smeared the blood over his torso. The wounds were getting deeper. But Kíli was becoming better at covering them up, no matter how deep the cuts went. 

* * * 

They step into Erebor for the first time without fear, the news of Smaug’s death like a merry tune in their hearts. Bofur watches the faces of Durin’s folk lighten, all their plight no longer in vain. Even his brother and cousin are more delighted than he had seen them in so long. 

But Kíli does not smile. The mountains of gold no longer interest him. He plays idly with the golden harp his brother had given him, and only lingers on the golden trinkets that Bofur shows him. 

The joy of reclaiming this stolen land is suddenly driven away from Bofur’s mind as dread fills him. With the newfound kingdom bustling with rebuilding and dividing up their treasure, none take notice of Kíli’s change. He drifts as a ghost among them. 

“Kíli?” Bofur called out softly, tenderly and kind, keeping his smile to support the younger dwarf. “Everything all right, laddie? Anything you want to tell me, do not hesitate.” Kíli struggled not to cry. 

* * * 

He has learned something. 

He should not stay silent any longer. 

But he cannot speak. 

* * * 

_“The giant Gundobad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin.”_

But Bofur did not catch this. He kindly asked Kíli to repeat, but Kíli doesn’t meet his eyes. His gaze lingers to the darker halls. 

* * * 

His bloodied fingers dig into the open wound. Kíli whimpers. 

* * * 

There is no moment of rest for the dwarves. Their time enjoying their treasure is short-lived as the elven and mannish hosts surround their mountain with declarations of their own share of the treasure. Thorin barely sleeps with the planning he’s making of the upcoming war and correspondences with Dain Ironfoot, who is said to be reaching Dale soon. Fíli as crowned prince is constantly at Thorin’s side along with Balin and Dwalin. Everyone is busy at work, polishing the old armor and setting up a new smithy in the depths of the mountain to forge new weapons in their haste. 

Kíli lingers around wherever he is needed, though none seem to pay him attention. The darkness masks his pallid face, and any who saw him up close presumed he was hungry (for there were little provisions) and growing afraid of the looming battle. 

* * * 

Kíli sleeps in a pool of his blood, crying and shaking and whimpering out Bofur’s name to comfort himself. 

This isn’t right, he keeps telling himself. What had he done to deserve this? 

* * * 

The appearance of the orcs and wargs speed up their progress in the mountain. Any hunger is forgotten as their bodies pump with adrenaline. Their appearance on the battlefield is due at any moment. Though some slept little since entering Erebor, they are all wide awake today. 

No torches were lit toward the entrance of the mountain, giving the world outside no indication of the happenings within. Thorin and his army gather at the gates, awaiting for their leader’s command. 

The thinnest strip of light peeks through the cracks, and that is when Fíli, who is positioned towards the back, takes note of his surroundings. Where there should be thirteen of them was now twelve. He leaned towards Bofur and gives his shoulder a tap. Upon seeing the look of fear in Fíli’s face, Bofur slips back, careful not to be noticed. He was lucky, for everyone in that moment was caught up with the happenings beyond the door, and the sounds of battle would drown out their conversation. 

“Bofur, where’s Kíli?” 

Bofur glanced back, counting the heads of the dwarves present. He could just barely make out the identity of each. “Wasn’t he with you?” 

“I thought he was,” Fíli said in a hushed voice. “But now I am not certain. Everything has been a rush - I don’t remember when I last saw him!” 

“Ai…” Bofur squeezed Fíli’s shoulder. He too could not remember even seeing Kíli this morning - or had he? He could have sworn he saw him pass by that morning, making his way towards a dark hall. 

“This way!” Bofur leads Fíli down the same dark hall, his heart hammering in his chest with dread. 

* * * 

“Why?” Kíli mournfully asks, his voice gurgling from the blood rising into his mouth. He eyes the tattered life in his hand. 

_“The giant Gundobad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin.”_

* * * 

Bofur and Fíli call out Kíli’s name. Bofur is up ahead of Fíli, swinging and out of rooms. Fíli’s searches take longer, not wanting to leave any rock unturned. When he left one room he no longer saw Bofur, who had run so far ahead that Fíli lost sight of him in the dark. 

Suddenly Bofur reappeared, running towards Fíli and looking rather pale. He grabbed Fíli’s shoulders. 

“Fíli…go back, join the others,” he stammered out. His chest heaved as he struggled to keep his breathing calm. “I found Kíli. I…we will be back out to join everyone.” 

Something in Bofur’s voice alarmed Fíli. “What is it? Is Kíli okay? Bofur?” 

“I saw him…” 

“Then what’s wrong? Let me see him!” 

“No! N-n-n-n-n-no!” Bofur struggled for the words as Fíli studied him, his face pale. “You can see him after the battle. I think you are needed elsewhere. Kíli needs me, just me, right now. I promise, I will join you back in the battle. But Kíli…he needs…” 

Fíli gave him an incredulous look. Unspoken questions flitted through his mind, but he did not dare ask them. “He’s not…my brother is not…Bofur, please…”

“He is not…he’s…he’s…he’s…fine.” Bofur cursed himself for his voice almost broke. 

Fíli continued to stare at him. 

“He is fine,” Bofur insisted. “He is shaken, that’s all.” 

Fíli took a step back, and Bofur understood. Fíli did not believe a word he said, but he was also deathly terrified to see Kíli himself. 

“Is Kíli’s lover there?” 

Bofur shook his head. 

Fíli pulled out his sword. “But he was there, wasn’t he? I will deal with him.” And he rushed back out the hall, his footsteps poundings thick and echoing in the darkness. 

Bofur stood there, too afraid to go back inside the room. He was never one to lie, and Fíli saw through him easily. Still, he could not begin to fathom what Fíli would do if he saw the truth. 

With a heavy heart he turned back, willing himself to take every step back towards the dwarf who had captured his heart, to gaze once more at the horrific scene. 

There is an odd light in this room, and it sickened Bofur to realize that this was once a chamber for the youngest of the Durin line. On the bed lay Kíli’s body, his clothes torn and scars fresh and old marred his small frame. His body was ripped open from his collarbone down to his stomach. A single tear still rested on his cold cheek, and his eyes were wide open as they gazed blindly at his own heart which he held in his hand. A knife was gripped in his other hand, both covered in blood. 

“Mahal, mercy!” Bofur wept, wanting to look away but unable to. “Who would do this? Who could hurt Kíli? _My_ Kíli?” He covered his mouth as the last words left his lips. No amount of words could describe the extent to which he loved Kíli, if only this other dwarf…

But who was it? The death had been very recent, and the killer had to have been covered in blood, leaving him no time to wash before joining them. But Bofur had not seen anyone missing when he counted the heads near the entrance. 

Then something caught his eyes, and tentatively he inched closer and crouched to study Kíli’s fingers. A traumatic avulsion had taken place; the nail plates had been torn from their nail bed, but Bofur could not understand why. Had it been during the struggle? But then another thing caught his eye. 

“No.” 

He leaned closer to Kíli’s chest, to the gaping wound where there was no mistaking the nail plates dug into the bone and muscle. 

“No!” 

Bofur jumped to his feet, gripping his stomach with one arm as his other hand covered his mouth, trying to stop himself from retching. 

“Why? Kíli, why?” He fell back to his knees, gripping Kíli’s arm. “Why, laddie? Did you kill yourself? But why?” 

The answer slowly came to him as the pieces began to fall together in Bofur’s mind. There was something Kíli said to him recently, perhaps the last words he ever spoke to him. He tried to recall what it was, having trouble catching it back then but thinking to himself that he heard the words before. 

It came to him then: _“The giant Gundobad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin.”_

It suddenly made sense to him. Kíli had begun to act weird after a night at the inn. Had Fíli not said that? 

It was simple, so obvious. 

There was no lover. There was only hatred, a curse poured into a cup to be given to the unsuspecting dwarf, and devilry masked as sweet innocent romance to lure in the youngest of Durin’s heirs. The orcs would be after Thorin and Fíli right now, having ensured taking care of one by this heinous dark magic. 

There could not be any explanation. Bofur felt stupid for even suspecting the other dwarves, even his own cousin; perhaps the curse was hoping to tear them apart, and it would have had Fíli and he spoken. 

“But the reason was right there. Why did it not occur to us?” Bofur looked up to meet Kíli’s glassy stare. Even in death, he could see the agony of the young one, the confusion and the pain. Had he figured out that no lover existed, that the wounds were of his own doing all along? Had he died thinking that he was unloved, made to die in a dark cold room far from where his kin could hear him call for help. 

Bofur didn’t realize he had moved closer, cupping Kíli’s cheek and wiping away the frozen tear. “How blind-sighted we all were! For six months we were chasing an invisible enemy, but we only had to look at the clues already under our nose! Oh, Kíli!” 

The tears rushed out again, and Bofur shook with his grief. He tried to control himself, just long enough to close Kíli’s eyelids, getting his final glimpse into the dark eyes. Suddenly a mad thought seized Bofur and he gathered up Kíli into his arms. He embraced him, paying no heed to the blood that seeped over his armor. All thought of joining the Company on the battlefield left his mind. Kíli needed him more here.

“Please do not go thinking you were unloved,” Bofur whispered to Kíli. “I am here. I will hold you and sing you till you are no longer in tears.” He knew this was foolish, for Kíli was by now in Mahal’s hands. But he prayed Kíli could at least somehow hear him and know, and heal. “Your brother loves you. Your uncle too, and he would have spent more time with you had things been different. And I love you, and I would have battled out the curse placed on you if only I had seen it! I would never, ever let a single shard come your way. I would have made you happy.” 

He kissed the top of Kíli’s head and buried his face in the mane of hair, letting his grief take him completely. He would have to tell Thorin and Fíli the truth at least; they deserved to know. But the future would know Kíli had died in combat, for he had indeed been fighting a terrible enemy for the past six months. 

To honor him in this way was the least that Bofur could do for Kíli.


End file.
